Transitions - Then and Now
by DreamingonthePage
Summary: Post-ep for Requiem with flashbacks to the transition between the first Bartlet campaign and first administration. It wasn't easy for Josh and Donna to navigate either transition. [Chapter 7 posted with roughly 10 planned for the full story. Full story will run through the parts of "Transition" we didn't see on screen.]
1. Chapter 1 - Nov 2006 - Post-ep Requiem

A.N.: In the Sorkin years, several episodes used flashbacks to illustrate the state of mind of a particular character in the present day, most famously perhaps with "Two Cathedrals". I'm borrowing that template for this story, getting into Donna's head between Season 7's "Requiem" and "Transition" as she re-examines a similarly uncertain transition between the first Bartlet campaign and the Bartlet White House.

For those of you who started following this fic as "Election '98", it is the same story with a different wrapper. Apologies for any confusion, but this structure works better for the story I'm attempting to tell.

* * *

><p>Private residence of the White House<p>

November, 2006

Post-ep Requiem

* * *

><p>"Thank you for inviting me," Donna said as she leaned in to kiss the president's cheek to say goodnight. It had been a wonderful evening after a wearying and confusing day. Some of the old warmth – the comforting sense of these remarkable people as family – came flooding back in the upstairs room. Sam was missing, Toby, and of course, Leo, but the love remained. She was a long way from the college drop-out who drove to New Hampshire with little more than hope and burning desire for a change.<p>

C.J. joined her on the staircase as they walked back to the West Wing. "I have to stop by my office for two minutes," C.J. said. "Do you have everything you need for tonight?"

"I left my bag at Margaret's desk," Donna replied.

"I'll let the car know we're ready," C.J. said, disappearing into the inner office.

Donna gathered her coat, adjusted her scarf, and was searching for her gloves when another voice called to her from the doorway.

"Hey," Josh said softly.

"Hey," Donna replied, holding his gaze. "I'm waiting for C.J. We're about to head out."

"I know. I just wanted to say goodnight."

Josh crossed the room and closed the difference between them. Was he going to kiss her here in Margaret's office?

"You're wrong about this being awkward and confusing," Josh said. He stood as close as possible without actually touching her. "I knew exactly what I wanted tonight."

Donna couldn't help but smile. That kind of declaration was sexy as hell. "But you didn't tell me," Donna replied. "Or anyone else," she quickly added, thinking of Amy's set-up offer earlier in the evening.

"I didn't know I had to," he said. "You always know."

Donna leaned in and kissed him gently on the lips. "Goodnight, Josh. Call me in the morning."

Donna picked up her bag and walked to the hallway, leaving Josh leaning against the edge of Margaret's desk as C.J. re-entered the room.

"Measuring the drapes is one thing, Josh. Lurking is another," C.J. said.

"What," Josh responded, still a little stunned. "I wasn't… It doesn't matter. I'm leaving now. Donna's waiting for you in the lobby."

C.J. caught up with Donna moments later. "You want to tell me what's going on with you and Josh?"

* * *

><p>Thirty minutes later C.J. and Donna were across town in C.J.'s apartment.<p>

"Is this your niece?" Donna asked, examining a framed photograph in the living room.

"Hogan?" C.J. replied. "Yeah, that one's a year or two old, I think." She handed Donna a wine glass. "Red or white?"

"She's beautiful."

"Senior at Oberlin. Psychology major."

"No interest in politics?"

"Not one bit," C.J. laughed.

Donna replaced the photo and took a sip of her wine. "It's been a strange night – strange week – strange decade, even. I look at that photo of your niece and think that if my car hadn't started that morning eight years ago when I decided to join the campaign, I'd still be in Wisconsin with two kids, a mortgage, a dog…"

"A husband," C.J. interrupted.

"Or a divorce," Donna deadpanned.

"Fair enough," C.J. replied.

"But it's exhausting, C.J. The uncertainty." Donna had revealed the basic contours of her week with Josh to C. J. in the car ride. "Josh said tonight that he knew exactly what he wanted."

"You don't believe him."

"I believe him well enough in the moment," Donna said, remembering the kiss. "I just don't think he'll ever…" Donna's thought trailed as she her head and sunk deeper into C.J.'s couch.

"Ever what?"

"Who's the psychology major now?"

"I'm serious, Donna. You won't offend my feminist sensibility. This isn't a policy address. You want the kids and the dog and the mortgage."

"Plus the meaningful job. I've worked too hard to give that up."

"And the husband?" C.J. asked.

"I've loved Josh as long as I can remember," Donna said without hesitation. "Everyone knows that, as strange as it is to say out loud. Will Bailey said I wasn't cryptic. Even when I imagine myself back Wisconsin I can't quite believe there was a time before Josh. But C.J., there is no way to love Josh without also loving his job, without putting his job first."

"Just because Leo and I couldn't, doesn't mean…"

Donna cut her off. "He couldn't be deputy and have a real relationship. Why would this be any different?"

"Because you wouldn't be working for him."

"Which only means I'd see him less – be less a part of his life."

Donna felt herself at the edge of breaking down, something she didn't want to do in front of the current White House Chief of Staff, friend or not. She quickly got up from the couch and brought her empty wine glass to the kitchen and attempted to recompose herself, then re-entered the living room.

"I'm sorry, C.J. I didn't mean to wind up in this particular mental cul de sac tonight. It doesn't do anyone any good."

"You and Josh accomplished the impossible in getting Matt Santos elected president. I'd like to think you can accomplish the impossible for yourself too."

"Thank you." Donna replied.

"It's late. Let's turn in. Things may look different in the morning."

Donna was exhausted. She wished C.J. good night and got ready for bed. She set an alarm on her phone and couldn't stop herself from checking to see if Josh had called again. She laid down to sleep with no answers, but a new desire to find them.

Eight years ago, her thoughts had been just as jumbled – not knowing how to define the difference between what she wanted for herself and wanted for, and from, Josh. Everyone else seemed to be able to draw a clean line between work and love. For Donna, it was never so simple.

She turned off the lamp on the night stand and put her head down on the pillow. Things might look different in the morning.


	2. Chapter 2 - Oct 30 1998

Friday, October 30, 1998

10pm

Manchester, Bartlet for America HQ

The last weekend before election day.

* * *

><p>"Donna?" Josh called, pushing open the heavy door to the rear deck.<p>

"Over here," she replied, barely looking up from her laptop. "Do you need me?"

In the dim light, Josh could see that Donna had set up shop on rickety table and battered folding chair. At least she had the good sense to bring out an electric space heater and bottle of beer. And she looked beautiful in the moonlight, the light blue scarf against a black wool jacket, and a sparkling in her eyes. That wasn't an inappropriate thought, he told himself. Just a fact. She was a beautiful woman.

"You can't let the field volunteers take over your desk," he said. "They're swarming and buzzing and one of them has a nose ring that I truly can't describe."

"I thought that was a good thing."

"The nose ring? Did you see it?"

Donna smiled. "The swarming and the buzzing, Josh. That's a good thing. They're assembling the walk packets for tomorrow. Three thousand volunteers, tens of thousands of doors to knock on across New Hampshire and southern Maine."

"I know. I put the plan together. I just don't know why they need your desk." Josh caught Donna's eye for a minute. There were times he swore she knew everything he was thinking but couldn't say.

"But it's nice out here," Donna replied, joining him at the railing. "There," she pointed, "there's a Halloween party in the apartment above the insurance company. The keg is on the back deck, and I get a glimpse of the costumes when they come out for a refill."

"The Frankenstein is nice," Josh said, grabbing a swig from Donna's beer.

"I thought she was going for sexy alien," Donna remarked. "To our left, in the alley behind Jimmy's Pizza…"

"Where?"

Donna placed a gloved hand against Josh's cheek and gently turned his face.

"Jimmy's delivery guys are racing mopeds in the alley while they wait for the next call. The guy in the red usually wins, but I think he cheats."

"I thought you were working out here," Josh joked.

"I am," Donna replied. "I can multi-task."

"I don't doubt it."

"And, over to our right," Donna pointed again, "there's a small time drug dealer at the corner of Market & 3rd Street. He's got a customer in a '78 Camaro that comes by every Friday at 10:15."

"You're out here every Friday night?"

"It's quality entertainment."

"Is that what you tell the folks back in Madison," Josh laughed. "I'm not sure this is what you signed up for."

Donna took her beer back and broke eye contact, stepping back to her seat and open laptop.

"I'll have the Ohio early vote report ready in twenty minutes. I'm waiting for the Lucas County numbers. They've been late all week."

"Yeah," Josh replied, a little surprised by the abrupt change in tone. "They're always late. It's OK."

Donna's eyes remained focused on her screen.

"Speaking of Madison," Josh began again, "Do you want to tell me about the voice mail I got from Madison earlier today?"

"You get hundreds of voice mails a day, Josh. You'll have to be more specific. And I thought we were up by 8 in Wisconsin."

"Bartlet-Hoynes is fine in Wisconsin. If something happens to turn Wisconsin, God forbid, your Lucas County numbers won't matter. We're up 5 with non-college men, 12 with women."

"Josh," Donna said sharply, halting the polling recitation. "The call."

"Right, the call," he said softly, searching her face for any indication that she knew where this was headed. He couldn't read her. "The call was from the admissions office at the University of Wisconsin. They wanted to know if I, as your supervisor on Bartlet for America, would consider that your work qualified for university credit as an internship towards your undergraduate degree in political science. There are twelve criteria."

"Josh."

"No really," he continued. "There are twelve criteria and she went on to list them into my voicemail. It was impressive. They didn't include police surveillance of the corner of Market & 3rd."

"You don't understand," Donna said firmly.

"I think I do," he said with a sigh. "Donna, are you leaving me again? Were you going to go back to Wisconsin without even telling me?"

Before Donna could answer, the door from the office swung open and Margaret stepped out the deck.

"Josh," Margaret said. "Leo needs you right now in his office. We're getting new reports of voter suppression in the South."

"I'll be right there," Josh replied.

He turned to leave without another word to Donna.

"It's for January, Josh. Or next fall," Donna interjected. "How was I supposed to know that you had plans for me beyond Tuesday."

"I can't talk about this right now. Leo needs me." He opened the door, then turned back. "I didn't think I had to tell you. You always know what I'm thinking."


	3. Chapter 3 - Election Day '98, Scene 1

Tuesday, November 3, 1998

6 am

Manchester, Bartlet for America HQ

Election Day

* * *

><p>The morning dawned crisp and bright, perfect weather for election day get-out-the-vote efforts. The three-way presidential race was close and had tightened over the weekend. Bartlet wasn't even a lock here in New Hampshire. As Donna navigated the now familiar streets of downtown Manchester in her beat up Toyota, balancing a paper coffee cup on her knee and pulling into the campaign parking lot, she had to smile. Win or lose, this was a good day in the history of Donnatella Moss.<p>

Only ten months ago she was waiting tables in a Madison diner, one of several dead end part-time jobs she juggled to make ends meet while her boyfriend finished medical school. One of her regular lunch customers was a state house lobbyist who liked to flirt and talk politics. He didn't mean anything by the flirting - he was a good thirty years older and married and divorced three times. Truth be told, Donna was flattered by the attention - by his assumption that she should know and care as much about legislative maneuverings as he did. Or maybe he just liked to hear himself talk.

His real motivations didn't matter much to Donna on the January day that he sat down at her station with a folded copy of _Newsweek_. "This guy," he said, jabbing a finger at a photo of the Governor of New Hampshire. "Mark my words, this guy is going to beat John Hoynes for the Democratic nomination. With a little luck, he's going to be the next president of the United States."

Donna picked up the magazine and looked closely at Jed Bartlet's face. He looked serious and honest, she thought. Even kind. Senator Hoynes looked like a used car salesman.

"Go see him in Dubuque Saturday," Donna's customer urged. "He's hitting every coffee shop and grange hall in Iowa before the caucuses. You gotta hear this guy give a speech. Renews your faith."

"In politics," Donna asked. Her faith in politics had never been particularly high.

"In humanity," he replied, grinning from ear to ear. "Bartlet's the real deal. If I didn't have to get the sausage made here in this den of thieves, I'd drop everything to go to work for him."

"Dubuque," Donna repeated. It was only a 90 minute drive southwest.

"5pm Saturday at the Machinists' lodge." He scribbled an address down on her order pad. "Go judge for yourself. What do you have to lose?"

The sound of C.J.'s car pulling in next to hers in the parking lot pulled Donna out of her reverie. She had driven to Dubuque that Saturday and heard Jed Bartlet speak. He had blown her away, and re-ignited a small flame that she could only describe as faith in herself and her own future. By the time Bartlet beat expectations and came in a strong third in Iowa, Donna was ready to drop everything and work for him. She drove to Manchester, found work that needed doing, and the rest was history.

As Donna closed the door to her car and looked at the campaign signs flanking the office front, she thought of Josh's words on that first morning. She could remember them beat for beat.

"Donna," he had said. "This is a campaign for the presidency and there's nothing I take more seriously than that. This can't be a place for people to come to find their confidence and start over."

"Why not?" she had replied. It was instantaneous. She didn't know she was going to say the words until they were half-way out of her mouth. "Why can't it be both."

Her instinct had been right, she thought now. It had been both.

"What a glorious morning," C.J. exclaimed as they reached the front door together. "Are you ready to elect a president?"


	4. Chapter 4 - Election Day '98, Scene 2

Election Day '98

Bartlet for America HQ, Manchester, NH

* * *

><p>"Did you hear from Josh yet this morning?" C.J. asked as she and Donna walked to the communications department at the rear of the headquarters.<p>

"He'll be on the campaign charter at noon out of Ft. Lauderdale."

"Does that mean we have good news from the election judge in Broward?"

"Partially," Donna replied. "The final order will be issued before the polls open but the word is that all precinct officials in the county will have to accept provisional ballots."

"Let 'em all vote. Sort it out in the counting. I can live with that. Your boss really impresses me sometimes."

"Yeah," Donna smiled and felt herself blush a little with pride for Josh. She immediately hoped C.J. hadn't noticed.

"I almost forgot," C.J. added. "I finally spoke with someone at Wisconsin yesterday. I don't think you're going to have any trouble with re-admission, Donna. I'm really proud of you for wanting to complete your degree. It's really smart - the best thing for your career. January?"

"I suppose so," Donna replied. "There are still some variables."

The conversation continued as C.J. led Donna into a large conference room that had been converted into a television studio. A number of technicians busied themselves with lights and camera equipment. Heavy black cables ran across the floor and out of the emergency exit door to a satellite uplink truck parked just outside. C.J. walked over to a young woman about Donna's age with long dark hair.

"Donna, this is Carol Fitzpatrick with the DNC satellite service," C.J. said. "Our second tier surrogates have been working the east coast morning shows since 5 a.m., but we'll hit a new level of intensity in about 30 minutes when Senator Hoynes arrives for the network feeds. That's why I wanted you here."

"Of course," Donna replied, more than a little in awe of the scope and intensity of the effort. Every day she was exposed to something new. It was exhilarating.

"I'll need you to brief the Senator on the Broward county ruling before he goes on the air. He will absolutely get questions from the morning anchors on that. Then do whatever you can to help Carol. These interviews are going to go fast. Three broadcast networks and four cable networks in fifteen minutes."

"I'm ready," Donna replied.

"This may be our last chance to appeal directly with some persuadable voters before they head out for the day. I can't overstate the stakes."

"I know C.J. I'm ready," Donna said.

"That last bit may have been as much for me as for you," C.J. said, exiting the room. "I'll go check on Hoynes."

Carol handed Donna a clipboard and a directed her to a telephone at the makeshift operations desk. "Call Susan Levine at this number at Good Morning America. Stay on the phone with her while we test the uplink. She's arrogant and brusque and is going to tell you that everything is fine just to get you off the phone quickly, but you have to insist that she confirm the strength of the satellite signal. We can't take the connection for granted. She and I were in the same program at NYU. Her bark is worse than her bite."

Donna picked up the receiver to make the call. The adrenaline was addictive and she relished the work. But for just a moment as the phone was ringing, she let her thoughts turn to Josh. He was the one she wished she could share this with.

"Susan Levine please," Donna said as the call connected. "Donna Moss, Bartlet for America."


	5. Chapter 5 - Election Day '98, afternoon

[A.N. - Chapter revised 11/19/14 and re-posted. The first time through, I had intended to have a certain character move the plot in one direction, but she had a mind of her own and started saying other things :). The second try was more successful.]

* * *

><p>Election Day '98<p>

Bartlet for America HQ, Manchester, NH

* * *

><p>11:10 am<p>

Donna stepped out to the rear deck of the campaign office for a moment of fresh air and quiet. It wasn't even lunchtime, yet she felt like days had passed since she woke up this morning - weeks since the last conversation she and Josh had together on this deck.

Donna's cell buzzed and she glanced at the caller I.D. - Josh. It was a heady sort of synchronicity, she thought. I picture him and he calls me. In little moments like this she thought the universe was trying to tell her something.

"Hey," she said brightly. "Are you on your way back?"

"Wheels up in about five minutes. We were waiting on the 11am exits."

"And?"

"Pennsylvania's tightening. Ohio, even New Jersey."

"New Jersey will turn around," Donna replied. "Democrats vote late."

"Yeah," Josh breathed. "But we can't take anything for granted."

Through the phone Donna heard the flight attendant announce the cabin door was closing in preparation for take-off.

"Here's what I need you to do," Josh continued, in a rush. "We need every vote in the electoral college. This could come down to one or two and we can't have a tie in electoral numbers send this thing into a vote in the House of Representatives."

"I know."

"Maine splits its electoral votes. It's not winner take all. I don't trust the tallies coming out of the coordinated campaign. I need you to check on it."

"How?"

"Drive to Portland. There's a woman in the state party office today named Amy Gardner, monitoring GOTV for the EMILY's List Senate candidate. She's an old college friend of mine. Well, not friend, exactly."

Donna heard the flight attendant address Josh sharply. "Sir, you need to turn off your phone for takeoff."

"Take my car," Josh continued. "I can't have yours breaking down in the White Mountains or getting stuck because you don't have snow tires."

"It's not snowing Josh."

"Take my car. Find Amy. Tell her I need numbers I can work with. I'll call you when we land."

Donna placed her phone in her coat pocket and walked back to Josh's office. She understood the tone in his voice. These were orders she was expected to follow without question, whether or not she knew precisely how to execute them. In other jobs, in other circumstances, that kind of request might have made her feel somehow demeaned. Here, in this job, she recognized the faith and loyalty behind the request. Josh had a duty to Leo and to Governor Bartlet, and Donna had a duty to Josh. She didn't intend to let him down. She opened the top drawer of Josh's desk and grabbed his car keys.

* * *

><p>1:30 pm<p>

Three hours later Donna was seated in a darkened pub in Portland's Old Port, having a beer and bowl of lobster stew with Amy Gardner.

"Isn't your first obligation to yourself," Amy asked, rhetorically, full of outrage as she finished up a war story. "Why should I support a candidate who's bad on my issues just because an old white guy at party headquarters says it's his turn to run for the seat. Where would you be if Bartlet had waited his turn?"

Donna half listened, sensing that Amy didn't require much of a response from her conversational partners. The waitress approached the table with their entrées and a second beer for Amy.

"What time do you think we'll have new numbers?" Donna asked. "Josh is going to call as soon as he lands in Manchester."

"It can wait until we're done with lunch," Amy replied. "I appreciated Josh's, um, intensity," she continued, drawing out the word for emphasis and arching her eyebrows. "It's sexy. It what makes him Josh. But I think in this case it's misguided."

"You don't think Maine 2nd is important?"

"I think it's important, I just don't think there's anything you can do about it. The die has been cast. Bartlet is going to lose Florida, and that's the ball game. Shifting the ratio of turnout calls in the Maine 2nd isn't enough."

Amy's supreme confidence in that conclusion took Donna by surprise. "Josh isn't going to give up while the polls are still open, while there's still something we can do," Donna said.

"Josh wants the illusion of control," Amy continued. "And we'll give it to him. After lunch."

Donna took a bite of her salad and offered no response. She sensed there was something wrong about Amy's attitude - towards Josh and towards politics - but she didn't yet have the words to articulate it.

"Is Josh still seeing Mandy?" Amy asked. "I don't know why Leo hired her to do media. Her ads are uninspired - pedestrian."

While Donna was working up a response, her cell phone rang. "Excuse me for a moment, Amy."

Donna stood up to take the call away from the table, but Amy motioned her stay at the table.

"That's great news," Donna said into the phone. "Yes, please do fax the enrollment forms to my office. Thank you."

As Donna recited the fax number she noticed that Amy was listening intently to the contents of the call. She has a strange sense of boundaries, Donna thought for split second, before the voice on the phone drew her back to more immediate concerns.

"5pm today? That's not possible. It's election day. My work comes first today. Tomorrow though." Donna paused. "I understand. Yes, you've granted numerous extensions throughout this process. Midnight is very generous."

Donna closed her phone and turned back to Amy. "I apologize."

"Don't," Amy replied firmly. "In this business, we've got to squeeze in our lives wherever we can. Though if I heard you right it sounds like you're leaving the business. Josh has been known to drive a few colleagues out of politics. Law school?"

"No," Donna laughed, "not law school."

"Good," Amy laughed in turn. "We've got too many of them in Washington. What then?"

Donna couldn't peg this woman but she sensed a genuine curiosity. She decided to let her guard down.

"I actually haven't finished my undergraduate degree," Donna said evenly.

"Really," Amy replied, taking another swig of her beer. "That's ballsy. To play at this level without all the armor you can muster."

"I want to finish my degree, " Donna replied. "The only question is the timing. Josh..."

"Yeah," Amy cut her off. "Look, if you guys do win tonight somehow, I'm sure Josh will do what he can to take you along, you know, once he gets own situation secured. Do White House jobs go through Office of Personal Management? I don't actually know all the civil service rules, which west wing jobs are political appointments and would be outside of that process. I honestly don't know. But you know what Washington is like."

"I don't," Donna said.

"What do you mean?"

"I've never been to Washington. This is my first campaign. Josh took an incredible chance on me - not that I don't think I've repaid that leap of faith - but I owe him my loyalty."

"Donna, Washington is a shark tank," Amy said firmly. "Don't mistake allies for real friends."

"Josh isn't like that. The Bartlet campaign isn't like that."

"I like Governor Bartlet," Amy said, standing up from the table. "I've known Abbey Bartlet most of my life. But one good man - if he even wins - can't change the culture there. And frankly, I'm not sure I think he should. I'm not counting on a president or any set of politicians to anticipate my needs and advocate for them in my stead. I'm my own most effective advocate." Amy threw a couple of twenty dollar bills on the table before Donna could offer to pay her share.

"Get your degree, Donna," she said firmly, closing the topic. "Go into Washington as your own person."

* * *

><p>2:40 pm<p>

Mid-afternoon Donna found herself inside a cavernous office building that served at the election day phone bank for the Maine Democratic coordinated campaign, where hundreds of volunteers spent the day calling registered Democrats who hadn't yet voted, reminding them to get to the polls before 8pm and vote for the full party ticket. Running tallies showed the percentages of calls completed by district and precinct. Despite the massive effort, there was no way to call every voter. Priorities had to be set and readjusted as the day went on.

"Twenty minutes, Josh," Donna said into the phone. "The 3pm numbers will be ready and I'll add you to the conference call with executive director and the other campaign managers."

"What's your take on the E.D.?" Josh asked.

"If he's listening to Amy," Donna replied, "and she is talking to him right now, he's going to say that since Bartlet is going to lose anyway, they should place a majority of calls into the first district to help the Congressional and Senate candidates there who can win."

"Including Amy's candidate," Josh said.

"There's some self interest in the mix," Donna replied.

"Amy thinks we're going to lose?"

"Yeah."

Donna could sense Josh slumping back into his chair with that answer, a small part of him accepting Amy's verdict as settled fact.

"Josh," Donna said quietly. "I think Amy's wrong."

"You do?"

"I think she's wrong about a lot of things, and I think you should pull rank with the E.D. We're not going to lose. We're going to win and we're going to go to Washington and change things. You're not done yet."

"No," Josh said simply. Donna thought she could hear him smile. "I'm not done yet."


	6. Chapter 6 - Election Night '98, pt 1

Election Day '98

Manchester, NH – 7:30 pm

* * *

><p>Donna heard her cell phone ring as she stepped out of the shower. Wrapping herself in towel, she stepped quickly into her bedroom, making sure the coast was clear of roving advance guys. The campaign group house had seemed like a great idea when it was Donna, Margaret and a bunch of finance assistants. But as spring turned to fall and the advance team moved in and out of town ahead of the governor and took to sleeping on the living room floor, the house became more frat than refuge. <em>Another strike against going back to college<em>, Donna thought. _Self-consumed, immature college guys_.

Donna shut her bedroom door and answered her phone just before it went to voice mail.

"Where are you?" Josh asked.

"Changing for tonight. For the party."

"OK," Josh replied, running a hand through his hair and wondering for the first time if he even had a clean shirt for tonight. "You realize we have to work tonight, right? The party's for the donors and the TV cameras. We're still running a political operation. We need phones and computers and functional internet to stay on top of the returns as they come in. There's none of that at the Hilton ballroom."

"Press filing center?" Donna asked.

"You get another job while I was gone?" Josh joked. "The filing room is for the press."

Donna ran a hand down the front of the dress she had picked out for tonight – simple, black, elegant. She could talk herself out of the notion that she had chosen it because Josh might like the way she looked in it on their last night together.

"No party at all?" Donna whined, unable to completely mask her disappointment.

"OK. Some party," Josh replied. "An hour or so while the non-battleground states are called. Maybe the dance you still owe me from Illinois. Then back to the office."

Donna smiled. "OK."

"So come pick me up already," Josh said.

"Pick you up?"

"You do still have my car, right?"

"I'll be there in twenty minutes."

Donna shimmied into her dress and threw a compact and lipstick into her purse. The re-enrollment papers from the University of Wisconsin stared at her from the top of the bureau. She folded them into a thick wedge but they still wouldn't fit into her evening bag. "Glove box," she thought, and grabbed the keys to Josh's car.

The bedroom clock read 7:50. Still four hours to decide whether or not she'd be sitting in a classroom in Madison come January.

* * *

><p>A half hour later, Donna sipped a glass of white wine in the Hilton ballroom. Red, white and blue bunting draped the stage. Balloons held fast in a net suspended from the ballroom ceiling – to be released later in the evening if the news were good – or stay trapped in suspended animation if Governor Bartlet was not moving to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.<p>

Sam noticed Donna examining the ceiling and sidled up to her. "Potential energy," Sam said.

"Hmm?"

"Isn't that the scientific term?" Sam asked. "Potential energy. Kinetic energy is when a body is in motion – physics-wise, and potential energy is when it's stored up, waiting."

"Sure," Donna replied. "That rings a very far-away bell."

"Most people probably prefer kinetic energy," Sam continued, "but there's something more poetic about potential energy."

Donna smiled.

"But what do I know," Sam said. "I've been up for 48 hours straight and written four speeches, one of which will be given tonight from that podium."

"And the others?" Donna replied.

"Tomorrow's kindling," Sam said.

Across the ballroom, Toby gestured for Sam to join him.

"Duty calls," Sam said, giving Donna a quick kiss on the cheek. "You look gorgeous tonight, by the way."

* * *

><p>Moments later, Donna caught Josh's eye in another corner of the ballroom.<p>

"Save me," Josh mouthed silently, trapped in conversation by a balding guy in beige jacket. Donna walked over to him, moved in close and whispered in his ear.

"You'll have to excuse me Ken," Josh said, offering the man his hand. "The Governor needs me in the other room." Josh placed his hand at the small of Donna's back and guided her into the hallway.

"Nick of time," he whispered. "Guy's a two-time state rep from North Conway and wants to talk about his presidential run in 2014."

"Will you still be doing politics in 2014?" Donna asked with a grin.

"I don't know if I'll be doing politics tomorrow," Josh replied. "We lose and I'm headed for the witness protection program to avoid retribution from Hoynes for ruining his career."

Josh stopped short of the press filing center and steered Donna to quiet alcove off the main hallway.

"You haven't asked me what I brought you from Florida," Josh said.

"Josh, you didn't have to bring me a present," Donna started.

"You always ask if I've brought you something."

"Yeah, but then you brought fresh salmon from Seattle and forgot in your garment bag for two weeks. I thought I'd quit while I was ahead."

"That was pretty bad," Josh agreed. "This is better." He smiled like a small boy and pulled a square box from his front pants pocket.

Hands unsteady, Donna gingerly took the box and held it longer than necessary, holding Josh's gaze and looking for some clue to the contents.

"Open it," was his only reply.

Donna lifted the cardboard lid and peered inside. Her face fell.

"It's a key chain," she said.

"Yep," he replied.

"Without a key," Donna continued.

"What's attached to the key chain?" Josh asked.

"Well, I'm not sure what degree of specificity you're looking for Joshua, but I'd say it's a toy replica of a World War I flying ace."

"I'm looking for something a little less specific," Josh replied, still grinning.

"A bi-plane," Donna said with a laugh, getting into the spirit of this demented game of charades.

"Another step back, Donnatella," he said.

"A plane?" she asked.

"A plane," he said.

"Are you taking me to Hawaii?"

"I don't know where you've gotten the idea that that is something bosses routinely do for their assistants."

"I'm a very good assistant," Donna replied, not missing a beat.

Josh stepped closer, removed the key chain from the box, and dangled it in the space between them. "I couldn't buy you a plane ticket to D.C., 'cause, well, we still don't know if we're going to win or lose, or if we're going into a recount in Ohio, or a voting rights lawsuit in Florida, or…"

"Josh," she said softly.

"I didn't have dates for plane ticket. I don't know when we're leaving. But whatever happens tonight Donna, however the Bartlet campaigns ends – the, you know, thrill of victory or the agony of defeat…"

"I get it Josh."

"Whatever happens, this is a promise. I want you with me for the next thing."

Donna broke into a full smile and embraced him. Josh pulled her tight and held her as long as he dared. When he felt the eyes of a passing reporter on them both, he broke contact and held back.

"If it's what you want Donna. If you want to go back to Madison and finish your degree I won't stand in your way. I'll have a job for you in two years."

"A job. You're very sweet sometimes," she said, fighting back a tear.

"Don't let that get around, OK?" he said, and pulled her back for another quick hug and kiss on the cheek. "I have to find C.J. before the next round of polls close. Back to the office in an hour."

"OK," Donna said, as she watched him turn the corner. She slipped the key chain into her evening bag and snapped it shut. _You're an idiot_, Donna thought to herself. _You can't let yourself fall in love with your boss_.


	7. Chapter 7 - Election Night '98, pt 2

Election Night '98, 10:45 pm

Bartlet for America Headquarters

Josh navigated his rental car into an open parking slot at the nearly deserted headquarters in downtown Manchester. Donna sat beside him, singing along to the oldies station on the car radio, still on a high from their time at the victory party. Not that campaign victory was yet assured – polls weren't even closed yet on the west coast – but Josh's gesture at the party, his promise, felt like a victory to her.

"Cal-i-for-nia dreaming," she sang out, until Josh turned the key and the radio went cold. "Josh!"

"What? We're here."

"You were doing harmony."

Josh laughed. "I've got to get up to Leo's office. The Oregon lawyers are calling in."

"There was only one more chorus. You're killing my buzz."

"Losing Oregon will kill everyone's buzz. The polls aren't supposed to close if voters are still in line."

"I know, Josh."

"Well, we need our lawyers to keep Republican precinct officials honest. Our guys are volunteers. They gotta know we're paying attention or they'll slip off to their own victory parties before the job is done."

"Sometimes it's no fun to be the good guys," Donna replied, getting out of the car.

Josh walked to the building entrance and held the door open. "I'll make it up to you," he said with a smirk. "You still owe me a dance."

"You keep dangling this promise," Donna joked as she approached the door. "How do I even know you can dance?"

"I can dance," he said, capturing Donna's eyes with a seriousness of purpose and dropping all hints of teasing from his tone. Donna held his gaze for a long moment, wavering in the threshold of the open door.

Without breaking eye contact, Josh placed his other hand around her waist and pulled her close while letting the door swing shut. "California dreaming," he sang softly, gathering her in a tight embrace, with the slightest of movements to suggest a dance. Donna wrapped her arms around his back and drew him even closer. As she tilted her head in anticipation of his kiss, a sudden flood of light from an approaching car made them both uncomfortably aware of their surroundings.

Josh dropped his arms and stepped back. "I gotta get upstairs," he mumbled.

Donna watched him move towards the front door. "I'll be there in a minute," she called. "I forgot something in the car."

Donna walked purposefully to the parking lot, opened the car door and reached inside the glove box. She pulled out the re-admission papers from the University of Wisconsin. In the faint light of the parking lot, she gave them one last look. _Wisconsin is my old life_, she declared to herself and ripped the papers in half.

* * *

><p>Twenty minutes later Donna and Margaret huddled around a television at Margaret's desk watching the next round of returns. Washington state and California had fallen easily into the BartletHoynes column, but Oregon and several mid-western states were still too close to call.

"So what's DC like," Donna asked, as CNN took a commercial break.

"It's heaven compared to Manchester," Margaret replied. "If I wasn't so damn loyal to Leo I never would have spent eight months here. At least Josh took you on the road some time."

"Tell me again when you started working for Leo?"

"Twelve years next spring. My aunt Lorraine started as his executive assistant when he was at Labor and I learned the ropes from her."

"And your mom too, right?"

"Yeah, I come from a long line. Mom didn't work for Leo, but she was a federal executive assistant for forty years. Four cabinet level posts, some sub-cabinet. Cabinet members come and go, policies change, but we're the real backbone of the government. We know where the bodies are buried. Mom retired GS-15." Margaret beamed with pride on the last pronouncement.

"GS-15?" Donna asked.

"Highest rank in the civil service system. I'm only GS-8. But it won't matter for us in the White House. We'll be political appointees."

"Right," Donna said, although she only had a vague notion of Margaret's train of thought. She hoped to head off a more detailed account of federal employment rules in favor of more immediately relevant topics. "Are the hours as long as they are now?" Donna asked. "I mean, do you have time to meet interesting men? Go on dates."

"It wasn't that bad at Labor," Margaret replied. "But the White House will be a different story. Oh, where's the remote," Margaret continued, interrupting herself. Looks like they're about to call Pennsylvania."

Donna turned up the volume on CNN as the news anchors continued to chatter.

"I met one really interesting guy at Labor," Margaret continued. "Lawyer. Great hair. Played the cello. But we had to call it off. Leo instituted a strict no fraternization policy."

"That's terrible," Donna replied.

"It wasn't that bad. We only had a few dates. All potential, you know? – Damn, back to commercial," Margaret lowered the TV volume again. "And it wasn't Leo's fault." Margaret lowered her voice to a whisper. "There was a sex scandal."

"Leo?!" Donna exclaimed.

"No, not Leo. He's married to his career," Margaret replied. "But keep your voice down. This never hit the press. One of Leo's deputies, a holdover from the previous Secretary, was being blackmailed by a mistress. Said she would go public if he didn't convince Leo to reverse some rulemaking on mine safety."

"The mistress owned a mine?"

"Her husband did. Anyway, Leo got the guy to resign before it became a big thing – you know, issue a statement saying that he needed to spend more time with his family." Margaret used air quotes when she said the word family. "But Leo was spooked. Didn't want any hint of scandal on his watch. He'll be worse in the White House. Probably make Josh take a vow of celibacy."

Donna was still puzzling through the kinks in Margaret's story. "But how did splitting up you and the lawyer stop a scandal?"

"I don't really know," Margaret admitted, her eyes still on the TV screen. "Pennsylvania for Bartlet!" Margaret exclaimed as the news anchor called the state.

Leo and Josh emerged victorious from the inner office. "How about that, ladies!" Leo beamed, giving Margaret a fatherly hug. "Why don't you two head over the victory party," he continued. "We only need either Ohio or Florida now and they've got to run the table. I'm starting to feel good."

"Josh?" Donna asked, trying to catch his eye. "Is that OK with you? I can stay."

"No, Leo's right. You should go," he answered. "We'll be over soon."

Margaret grabbed her coat and took Donna by the arm. "Come on, before they change they're minds."

With a quick look back at Josh, Donna followed Margaret downstairs. "Did the story not make sense before," Margaret chattered as they left. "I don't know if I told it right. Did I say that the husband knew about the affair…"

* * *

><p>Half an hour later, Donna was back in the hotel ballroom for the Bartlet  Hoynes victory party, surrounding by an increasingly drunk set of party-goers. As Donna scanned the room for Josh's arrival, she was feeling increasingly sober.

An exceedingly sober Toby tapped Donna on the shoulder. "Do you know the young woman Hoynes is taking to over there?" he asked.

"Melanie from finance?" she replied.

"No, next to her. Sleeveless red dress. Tipsier."

"Never seen her before."

"I need to find Sam. Can you keep an eye on them for me?"

"Spy?"

"Yeah, spy."

"What am I looking for?"

"Something that progresses beyond flirting and banter to inappropriate touching in a public place filled with news cameras broadcasting live to every corner of the free world," Toby said, with more than a little exasperation.

"OK…," Donna said.

"And then you should, you know, break it up. Spill a drink on her or something. Then find me. This man, God help us, is going to be the next Vice President of the United States."

Donna took a step closer to take up her strange new duties on this exceedingly strange day. It felt like five days. The campaign felt like a lifetime. And it wasn't over yet.

A hush fell over the ballroom as C.J. strode the podium at the front of the stage.

"Ladies and gentlemen," she began, "we've asked the band to take a break while we bring up the volume on the large television screens you see to your right and left. We expect the networks to call Ohio in the next few minutes."

C.J. was smiling, Donna noticed. Someone in the press must have given her advance warning. From the corner of her eye, Donna saw Hoynes break away from the young woman in red and slip backstage. This was it. And Josh wasn't here.

A roar went up from the crowd as the map of Ohio appeared on the television monitors with a blue check mark. "CNN is now ready to call the state of Ohio and its twenty-one electoral votes for Governor Jed Bartlet and Senator John Hoynes. This makes it a mathematical impossibility for the Republicans to retain the presidency. Josiah Bartlet, CNN projects, has been elected the next President of the United States."

The next few minutes were a joyous blur as Donna hugged everyone in arms reach. Balloons and confetti dropped from the ceiling as the band began a raucous cover of Fleetwood Mac's "Don't Stop Thinking About Tomorrow". Margaret appeared and pulled Donna near the front of the stage where a group of campaign aids and assistants danced together and sang along to every word.

Finally, Donna caught sight of Josh on the far side of the ballroom, by himself, holding back from the celebration. Donna couldn't read his expression. She made her way to him through the throngs and touched him lightly on the arm.

"Congratulations," he said quietly.

"I didn't do anything Josh. You – you did a remarkable thing. You should be up there celebrating."

"This is going to be the hardest thing I've ever done," he said. "I don't want to screw it up."

"You won't Josh," she said without hesitation. "This is what we've been working for. This is the Governor's time."

"The president-elect. That's what he is now. The president-elect. It's his time."

Donna pulled Josh into a hug but he stiffened and held back.

"Look, Donna. About before," he began.

"Don't Josh. It was nothing."

"We should talk about it."

"We don't have to," Donna replied. "We're going to be working together, in the White House, making a difference. That's the only thing that matters."

Josh relaxed. "I can't do it without you."

"Then it's a good thing you don't have to," Donna smiled. "Go find Sam and Toby," she said. "It's your night."

Donna watched as Josh waded through the crowd towards the stage as the President-Elect took the podium. The ballroom grew silent. "My fellow Americans," he began. "Today begins a new era of hope and progress, of peace and prosperity, of compassion and justice for all our citizens." _That's what matters_, Donna thought. _That's the promise we have to make real_.


End file.
